Pink Lunch Boxes and Master Builders
by Worse than Duck Baby
Summary: AU, In which Emmet is a policeman, and Good Cop Bad Cop hates his life. Temporary title.


"Emmet Brickowski, please take a seat. Your interviewer should be here shortly."

"Okay, yes ma'am!" Emmet said as he bounced in his seat, taking in his surroundings. The building was interesting. The design on the outside was basically flawless, he gave a silent compliment to the… the… what was the word… _architect_. It was a word from BB- before Business, and it was removed from the dictionary. Emmet thought it strange; the architects he met were perfectly nice- being a former construction worker, he met quite a few. Now though, it seemed to be like a dirty word, but he had no idea why. Come to think about it, he didn't meet any architects after President Business came into power; it was probably new management or something- nothing to worry about. It wasn't his concern anyway; he wasn't a construction worker anymore.

He just needed to repeat that to himself a few thousand times before it would sink in. It seemed like the right career for him, but hey, if it wasn't working out, he didn't need to stress about it. Really.

The interior of the building, as Emmet noticed, was also quite nice in the public areas, what with the overbearing blond robots, glass, and things. When he got into the rooms though, it was a different story. There was nothing interesting where he was at that moment, except for the popcorn ceiling. As a construction worker and demolitionist, he was a bit worried about the gray substance. The building wasn't going to be torn down anytime soon, and it was a new building, too, so it wasn't a hazard, but he never could be too careful.

The problem with the room, besides the popcorn ceiling, was the sheer boredom of it. There wasn't anything in it but carpet, two chairs, and a table. If they asked, he would be happy to install a TV and fridge to make it a decent enough hangout. A couch would be good, too, but with the amount of people passing through, it would need to be bigger than the room would allow. Maybe, he could build it up like a bunk bed, and add cup holders, like every other new cool thing. (Plus, it was partly an office building, so it would help with holding hot coffee.)

"-owski? Emmet? Are you there, buddy?"

Emmet snapped out of his 'idea trance', as he liked to call it, and looked at the officer, who was wearing a small pair of glasses, which magnified his eyes to the extent of something from a BB anime. He decided that he would need to speak, or be kicked out of the interview and not get a job again.

"Yes, sir?"

"My name is Good Cop, and I'll be interviewing you today. Anything I need to know first?" Oh man, good cop? Emmet didn't even know what to say to that. If there was a Bad Cop, Emmet didn't really want to meet him or her. Was that a nickname, or did his parents really, really hate him?

"Um, like what? I don't want to start talking and not stop like that one time when-"

"Is there anything out of the ordinary? How do you feel about your abilities from your old job?" Emmet didn't really want to answer that question, it would make him seem either really full of himself or the opposite, but he tried his best.

"Well, er, I really liked my old job until, um, a couple weeks ago, actually. Everyone got really mad at me for being "too good at it", which, if it was true, how could I not do that if I was really good at it? I mean, I wasn't that good at it, I just tried hard and it got easier over time. If they tried as hard as I did or something, they would probably be better than me, or… something. Um, I'm not saying they didn't work hard! They probably did! I phrase things wrong sometimes. They teased me and messed up my work. I got mad and left. I saw this ad in the paper; I thought I would be okay, but not too good, at it, so I thought it would be a good choice."

"What, may I ask, was your last job?" Wasn't that on Emmet's records? He answered anyway.

"Construction work for the Octan in the Bricksburg branch, sir."

"And why were you so good at it, besides trying hard? Everyone tries hard, it's part of the instructions." Yes, Emmet knew, instruction paper #3, it was one of the older ones. He didn't want to explain the real reason, it was too awkward. He would try, though. A 'Good Cop' wouldn't laugh in his face, right?

"Well, it kinda happened one day after Ihadanepiphanyintheshower."

"I'm sorry; can you repeat that last part?"

"When I um, had an epiphany in the shower, sir."

"…The shower? Are you sure, buddy?"

"Yes. You see, I read this comic a while ago, which I definitely didn't steal from the mass book burning, where a guy falls into some nasty chemicals and gets superpowers. Maybe it was like that? I had to get some prescription body wash for a yeast infection that had all this weird chemical stuff and it got all in my eyes and they started really hurting and I had to wash them out and it stung, too. I had to wash them out for fifteen minutes like in the instructions, but about halfway through all the hot water was gone, so I had to resort to..."

" , that's enough. Does it occur to you that you may be a master builder?" Emmet was horrified at that assumption.

"No, never, I watch the news too much to think that I could be one!" Master builders are the evil criminals that have always built things against the law, and act like rabid animals, so President Business had no choice but to put some of them to sleep. Emmet never built anything against the law, and didn't act like a rabid animal. He couldn't be a master builder. Another thought came to mind, as his chair decided to make itself uncomfortable. "By the way, this room is boring. It needs a bunk bed couch."

"A what?"

"Never mind. Um, I always follow the instructions on what to do. I'd never be a master builder."

"Okay then." The cop said, before he looked at his notes and sighed. Emmet couldn't possibly guess why. "I'm required to ask you these questions and judge you by the way you answer them." The cop was quite blunt, Emmet noticed, but he still couldn't gather a reason for the cop to sigh. Were the interviews improvised? "What is your favorite song?"

Oh boy, that was easy! "Everything is awesooomeeee!"

"Right. Your ideal coffee price?"

"Over thirty dollars. If it's less, it would be gross."Emmet was pretty sure that if this was a test, he would at least pass it. Maybe ace it, but then he'd forget to put his name on the paper.

"How often do you read the instructions?"

"I read them every day before I go to work, or a job interview, now. I brought some to read today, but they didn't get past that weird blond security robot. She kind of looked at me funny like I was hiding something, which I wasn't! It was confiscated, and it was the shark one, too! Could you get her to give it back? Please?"

"I'll… look into it."

"Thank you, sir!"

"One more thing, Brickowski, did you actually steal that comic from the mass book burning? You can tell me buddy, everyone breaks the law sometimes."

Emmet stared for a second, and gritted his teeth. "No sir, I tell everyone who asks that I didn't steal it! I thought I would just get it out of the way before you asked, but it's okay, everyone doesn't understand sometimes."

Something weird happened. The cop switched faces, to one with some pretty neat sunglasses.

"Brickowski, get out now."

Was this bad cop?

"I said NOW!"

Yes. Emmet got out. One should never sass Bad Cop, habit from work or not.

_AN: Hey! I saw all this Cop!Emmet art on Deviantart, so I wondered what the actual interview would be like. Of course, this whole thing is ridiculous because I'm a freshman in high school and never had a job before, so it's probably very inaccurate. But hey, creative license and weird dystopias count for something, right…? Heh, probably not._

_I think this won't really be a chaptered fic, but a series of short things occurring in Emmet's job. A plot will happen when the whole mess with the piece occurs, though._

_Some notes:_

_The gray substance is dust, which would be the LEGO equivalent of asbestos. If Emmet was on the team when Bricksburg and the walls were made, then it would've been a concern because the buildings probably were there for a while prior. I think that Bricksburg is in fact a 'hodgepodge', but was created by the man upstairs with self made instructions. Another possibility would be that Bricksburg was created along with everything else; they would have had to clean out an incredibly dusty basement._

_In short, I watch too much Flipping Vegas._

_For another thing, Emmet's abilities as a master builder may seem a bit odd, but it's all the placebo effect. _

_My headcanon about master builders is the following: A master builder's ability is based entirely on what they think it is. Someone raised a master builder would have the common case, seeing the block's names and numbers, not being able to follow instructions, having their own style that they would not be able to get out of, and so on. Growing up hearing 'master builders this' and 'master builders that' would result in the person (minifig?) following those examples and having their abilities mirror others. Emmet did not grow up a master builder, so there's naturally some weirdness surrounding his abilities. He doesn't see the pieces, but understands instinctively how they fit together; it isn't visual in that way like Wyldstyle saw it. There are other weird things too, but I'll get to them in time._

_..And I have spent too much words on the AN and not enough on the actual fic again. Yay._


End file.
